


Kindred Spirits

by Windwyrm



Series: Wolf & Raven [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Pigeons, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), that's a real tag? i was bluffing...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:08:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29416911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windwyrm/pseuds/Windwyrm
Summary: Sometimes, all things fall into place, even after all the struggle.[ Prelude-ish to the series. Can be read independently as well. ]
Series: Wolf & Raven [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766134
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Kindred Spirits

Walked up to the gates.

Fixed the tilt of his baseball cap. Brushed his hands over the front of the hoodie. Shifted his position and assumed a more natural pose.

Pushed the gate open. It creaked loudly.

The old human looked up from the barrel he was sealing. He wiped his forehead of sweat and straightened his back.

“Can I help ya?”

“I’m here for the job? We talked on the phone yesterday.”

The human took a step to the side and eyed him head to toe  
[ Clothes too dirty? ]

“Aye. Well, come on then, tell me why I should hire ya.”

The question was simple and to be expected - yet it caught the android off-guard - it was a human question, one they would ask an equal. Yet - routine interview question. Humans passed these all the time. He just had to query a database and extract the optimal answer and offer it in the appropriate tone. No reason for stress  
[ Why am I stressing? ]  
[ Need to choose approach ]

“I wanted for a long time to work in this field. I am very passionate and-”

The old human rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly. “Yeah, yeah, right, nevermind that crap;” he waved a hand dismissively. “What’d you work before?”

“In the city center, on the farms. The rooftop farms?”

The human’s features indicated displeasure and he nodded slowly. “And what was that like? What did ya have to do?”

“Water crops, trim trees, ensure the health of the plants, harvest produce.”  
[ Lie. ]  
[ I have to lie. ]

Humans padded their experience all the time from unofficial sources.

“I also tended a roost of messenger pigeons. I do have experience with both animal husbandry and agriculture.”

“I see.” The human kept quiet for nearly a minute. “You got any questions?”

“I don't have an official qualification, or training. Any paper I could show you. Is there a way for me to learn on the job when I encounter unfamiliar situations?”

“Hm;” the human sucked on his bottom lip. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s not rocket science;” he laughed at his inner workings. He paused. “Yeah, I'll... stop beatin' around the fuckin' bush? I hate this whole bullshit... Wanna see the place and make up your mind? Many people hate it. C’mon;” he turned around and waved his hand in a ‘follow me’ gesture.  
[ Change approach: informal ]

  


Rupert followed.

  


He had a moment of doubt upon seeing the courtyard despite his multiple cross-references on the GPS and the ad. The buildings belonged to a medical research institute - a prestigious name developing and producing avantgarde medicine for mental decline in humans - yet they were in bad condition even compared to the abandoned factories and houses downtown. There was the large building at the entrance - it appeared to be completely abandoned and devoid of mammalian life - all its windows were broken and its red brick exposed to the elements. The road then split at a 90 degree angle - a lane still leading onwards - deeper into an overgrown patch of trees and a series of unused water pumping stations. The other half of the road led left through a series of two story identical industrial buildings - some painted a faded green but most with cracked and discolored walls. One had dog kennels outside - and healthy and well kept dogs populating them. Funding was perhaps too scarce to upkeep both the buildings and animals.

There was another building in the far back which drew all of Rupert’s attention. A tall barn with chain link covered openings. There was movement and sound within - movement and sound which he was all too familiar with - a flock of homing pigeons - some of the members circling overhead.

The human walked down the cracked road slowly - limping - and speaking as he did so.

“You said you lived downtown, yeah?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where’d you keep the pigeons, then?”  
[ He suspects something ]

“I was renting a loft in this old building, there was enough space to store pigeons… in cages.”

Rupert fixed his cap. Hopefully the human believed the false story. He still--

They still distrusted each other as a species. Humans and androids. He hoped the affection for animals might be a common ground on the battlefield.

“So, why d’you like pigeons?”

Rupert turned to look at the human; “Sorry?”

“You city folk hate them. They shit everywhere, they destroy everything, ‘s what y’all say. But you answered the ad, when I was expectin’ some student from the ‘burbs trying to pay off his college with a shit job.”

Rupert shrugged in response.  
[ Have to say something. ]

“Life in the city is very limiting. Birds can be free to fly where they please.”

“Yeah but why pigeons?” 

“They are common, and accessible. And… very common on the roof gardens. Hum- Farmers try to kill them to keep them away from crops. But there is a strength in the way those that are wounded survive. Broken bones, torn muscles, bullets, disease… I started nursing some back to health due to that, then I took orphan chicks from their nests when I came across them. Eventually I built a flock.”

He could only hope that was a satisfactory story. A human story.

“I hate ‘em, yanno? Sky rats. ‘S why I’d rather pay some dumbass to take care of ‘em. But ain’t nothin’ to do, institute needs ‘em for research.”

“A lot of humans hate pigeons. Consider them worthless.” Rupert glanced down at his hands and the way he had been anxiously fiddling with them. Might as well continue - he messed up the interview as it were; “They used to be valuable once, kept and bred for war, for fashion, as pets. Technology advanced, fashion advanced, and they were forgotten, thrown out, or escaped. They did what they could to survive alongside humans. But your reaction to them is common. They are considered dirty and loud and destructive.

“But they are intelligent. And very similar to humans in the way their brain processes information, and ages. That is why they are often used in research. Their behaviour is highly social, they mate for life but leave a bad partner, they raise and teach their chicks in groups, they refuse to follow flock leaders that make bad decisions. They can learn to read at the level of human children and they can differentiate art styles...”

The human shrugged. “I guess.” 

Rupert shoved his hands in his pockets. “I also prefer their company over that of humans.”

“You one of them guys, eh?” The human turned to look towards the android; “You talk like one, too. My son is one, y’know?" He remained quiet for several seconds. "I like the term of ‘different’. Not as much weight attached to it. I still grew with these ‘ere words as insults.” He spat onto the grass; “he’s big on dogs, though, not pigeons, thank god for that. You’ll meet him for sure. Comes see these damn dogs every week.” He looked towards Rupert. “What didya say yer name was, son?”

“I, uh, Rupert, sir. Rupert Travis.”

The human eyed him for a moment in silence. He pressed his lips together.

“Got some ID on that?”

Without a word Rupert reached a hand for his chest pocket - opening his jacket. “I have a driver's license, and some cash. Lost everything else during the demonstrations. While fleeing them. Gotta be here somewhere…”

“You one of them damn robots?”

No immediate answer.

Admitting to it would result in violence.

Denying it would result in violence upon discovery of the deception.

He could run. He outran the deviant killer - he could outrun an old human.

“Aye, don't worry yourself none. Jus’ wanted to see what you’d say. Owned three of yous before it all, for working around the barns. Sure did a better job than any human.” The old man waved his hand dismissively; “Job’s yours. We’ll talk about pay sometime, when the legal shit's been figured. I can get you food if... well I guess ya don't eat much. Can get ya spare parts I guess... Anyway. Pick yourself a room from that green building there.”

The human pointed to one of the derelict structures in the far back. It was still in better shape than the surrounding ones - all the windows were intact and there were air conditioning units.

Rupert turned his head to look back at the human. “Thank you.”

“Don’t make it weird, kid. Before I change my mind. Hate your kind as much as I hate those fuckin’ pigeons. But… Times move on, eh? They do all the fuckin' time.”

The human turned around and walked back towards the gate.

Rupert looked once more towards the circling pigeons overhead.

Perhaps this could be a good thing.

Perhaps this could be home.

For him and his flock.

**Author's Note:**

> My cogs are rusted because I had an inspirational accident (normal people just say art block, dumbass). So I wanted to get this scene out of my head that while light and simple, wouldn't leave my fucking mind.  
> And because I guess Rupert is to me a criminally underrated character, especially 900 considered (but that makes the entirety of DBH secondary cast criminally underrated) So I wanted to give him a bit of love even if simple. As a treat.  
> And because I'm having fun experimenting with different narrators still.


End file.
